"Oh...sweet, sweet salvation..."
Sokka fell to his knees on the hard ground, looking around the marketplace with tears swelled in his eyes. To his right, a man was assorting cabbages on his cart in a very peculiar fashion...as if he was concerned with the placement of every, single, particular cabbage, and if any sole head of green vegtable was out of place it would be a horrible disaster to the world. Sokka's eyes grew big and watery and he leapt towards the man, clawing money from his pocket.
"Oh sir, please, can I buy a cabbage -"
He stopped abruptly in mid-sentence and looked at the money in his palm, then looked back at the cart. The warrior raised his hand and scratched his head as the vendor stared at him.
"Was I really so desperate that I was about to eat cabbage?"
"Hey Sokka! Try this!" said Katara suddenly, leaping beside her brother and shoving something into his gaping mouth. Sokka, surprised, swallowed it instantly and barely caught the taste on his tongue. He licked his lips and his eyes grew dazzled.
"That was...heavenly...KATARA! Where did you get that?" Katara gave a sly smile and skipped away.
"Its candied fish, Sokka. Made to taste like watermelon," Sokka didn't move for a moment. Just as he opened his mouth to yell at her, his face turned an ugly, pale shade of green and he clapped a hand over his mouth, rushing, once again, to the water's edge. Iroh, who was leaving the boat's deck beside his nephew, gave a little laugh.
"For a warrior of the Water Tribes, I think that young man doesn't quiet respect the ocean. He is always dumping something revolting into it, Zuko..." Zuko gave a forced laugh as Aang drifted down beside him on his glider. The young air bender had come to respect the Fire Nation Prince, and with the knowledge that Katara and him were somewhat closer than he had before thought, his relationship with the fire bender had relaxed a little. Also, he was teaching him fire bending, which was pretty important to the Avatar.
"So Zuko, is it alright if Katara and I find a water bender somewhere? I don't want to skip out on fire bending lessons, but I have to learn how to bend all elements -"
"Don't worry about, Katara's probably asking around already," said Zuko instantly, waving to the water bending girl up the street. "I'll be with Uncle Iroh."
Aang gave a laugh and a thumbs up as Momo jumped onto his shoulder, ready for the next adventure. Behind them, Appa slunk off the ship into the snow, sending a few birds scattering in various direction. The great bison gave a loud yawn and settled down into a snow pile to sleep, turning nearly invisible in the blank painting of the freezing landscape. Iroh patted his fur fondly as they walked by, and Zuko waved faintly to Aang and Katara as they headed down the street.
"You know what our first order of business will be, Prince Zuko?" said Iroh, smiling slightly. Zuko raised an eyebrow, prepared for any sort of outrageous idea that formed in his Uncle's head.
"What, Uncle?"
Iroh gave a perfect smile and quickened his pace, so that he walked off with Zuko standing, confused and slightly afraid, behind him.
"Why, finding you a priest, of course. What did you think I was going to say?" he cast a look at his nephew over his shoulder and Zuko gave a laugh, catching up with his crazy Uncle.
"I don't know...something about tea, I guess."
The world is weak, leaderless. The Fire Nation was going to save them from themselves. Fire is the element of strength. Fire will rule.
The Admiral let a soft stream of smoke escape from his palm. He was not inside his tent, as the guards thought he was; he was standing, motionless, atop a large, starlit snow dune. The miles of ice-covered wasteland stretched out before him, merciless and cruel as his own twisted soul; lights were glittering faintly from small town a few miles away. As the wind brushed past him he gave a sinister grin, his clothes waving softly in the bitter, stinging air. The snow as glowing, almost translucent in its glory, beneath the white starlight that would soon envelope this portion of the world.
In a few days the Northern lights would begin glittering on the horizon. Pink, yellow, white, red...red as the fire in Zhao's hands, as the fury in the Admiral's cruel, black, twisted soul. Such was the way of the world, the way of men. Even in the extreme peace of the northern borders, the delicate perfection of beautiful tranquility, there was always something more beautiful, more terrifying, something that the feigned peace but was born from deep, angry fires. The false prophet that begins wars, the misunderstanding, the innocence that sin twists into a gruesome horror. The thought made Zhao grin in a strange way. He gazed out at the dark horizon, his eyes shimmering with the same demonic flame that ran, deep and disturbed, through the living, killing machine that was his body.
His mind turned to thoughts of blood, beautiful crimson blood, staining the battlefield as fire bender and earth bender collided; he let out a short, crazed laugh and licked his lips at the thought.
"Blood, and death, and pain, and misery," he hummed to himself, his eyes wavering in their sockets like a maddened snake waiting to strike. "It will control the world. It will control the rebellious. I love...this war..."
There was ring and the dagger at the Admiral's side flickered, silver and stunning, beneath the stars. Zhao did not cry as the blade tore through his flesh, ripping his arm open in a vicious tear and spattering red across the cold, white ground. He laughed again and licked a drop of blood off the open wound.
The world was silent to his insanity. The stars looked away, the appearance of such a devil utterly unbearable for heaven's eyes. The very earth seemed to cringe in disgust, ashamed that it had created a being of such fierce and unquenchable bloodlust.
Zhao tasted the blood in his mouth tenderly and gazed down into the white valley. The houses of the Water Tribe were far away, miniaturized by the extreme distance. The lights from shop windows were still glowing, bright and yellow, much like the rows of candle flame that Zhao used in his meditation. He inhaled deeply and focused on one particular light, wondering if he could bend the lantern flame from so far away.
Zuko looked around the shop idly, uninterested in anything the old vendor had to sell. Iroh had ducked inside seeking a large trumpet to add to his musical instrument collection, and ended up in a long winded conversation about the musical legend in the Water Tribe history, a young man named Kat Suh. Apparently he could play all instruments with hands and mouth, and several with his toes. He had died tragically, apparently, while attempting to hold a single not for more than three hours.
The Prince picked up a pan flute and studied it in a bored fashion. He enjoyed music, of course, but he couldn't play an instrument as far as he could throw it - scratch that, he could throw pretty far.
He slouched back into a chair beneath a lighted lantern and turned his mind to other things. The ship was being re-stocked with fresh supplies, but they were not leaving the tribe unless a water bender could not be found.So far, no one had confronted the Prince as an enemy - but it had also been very dark outside, almost impossible to recognize anyone, and he concluded that most people believe him to be some visitor from Earth Kingdom. Sokka was probably polishing his blade, humming that song his father had taught him and preparing for music night with Iroh...and Katara. If she and Aang had not found a water bender, they would have returned to the boat, and she would be waiting for him in the hall...she would ask if he had found a priest...
He flinched. They had not found a priest. Despite Iroh's efforts, they had barely begun their search of the town, and the men and women they spoke to all referred to the temple on the hill - a hill that was a considerable distance away from where they currently stood. Inside an old music shop...owned by a man with three teeth...who had really bad lighting...that stupid lantern kept flickering...
Zuko's eyes flickered instantly to the lantern. The flame wasn't dying...it was...shrinking...and growing...and then shrinking again...
Iroh noticed the changes in lighting and turned to gaze at his nephew, who was staring blankly at the candle. The man smiled, his arms all full of instruments and merchandise.
"Zuko, meditation? Now? Surely you can wait until later -"
"I'm not doing it, Uncle," said Zuko instantly, staring dumbfounded at the flame. Iroh paused and continued his study of the lantern, which grew blinding bright, and then fell to a soft haze. The fire was breathing, thriving, living; the shop keeper looked warily from one fire bender to the other and took a step back.
"Now, I'm used to seeing strange things, but this isn't -"
"I'm not doing it," said Zuko defiantly, casting a pleading look to his Uncle. Iroh said nothing, but merely gazed at the candle with a studious expression. Zuko straightened up, his eyes still on the lantern, and a sudden, terrible thought pierced his mind. He spun towards his Uncle, his eyes wide with revelation.
"Uncle - fire benders, they have all returned home, right? But Admiral Zhao -"
"Admiral Zhao is with the Rebellion, Zuko," said Iroh flatly, lowering his gaze. "He is much farther south of here. You are overreacting. I am sure one of our soldiers simply walked by the shop."
He nodded towards the flame, which had stopped its odd behavior and returned to a regular flicker. The shop keeper, still at a loss for words, let out a soft cough, signaling that Iroh had not yet payed for anything. Iroh got the idea and turned back to the counter as Zuko's gaze wavered on the flame.
"Yes...you're right Uncle. Overreacting..."